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“What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Not Trodger. I do not even know his name. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjE3MS4yMDMgLSAxOS0wNS0yMDI0IDExOjA3OjUzIC0gMTUyNjI0OTI0

This video was uploaded to brazilianportuguesetranslatorinflorida.info on 14-05-2024 22:35:51

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